Julia, who had paid little attention to this last phrase, said to herself,--

"He ought to be rich if he has helped the marquis in all his follies."

"He is not married," resumed Chaudoreille, "although he could now find a good match. His house on the Rue des Bourdonnais is a very pretty property. Perhaps it's because of the little one that he doesn't marry; perhaps he is going to marry her, I shouldn't be surprised."

"What little one," inquired Julia, curiously.

"The young girl whom he has adopted and who is now sixteen years old."

"The barber Touquet has adopted a child?"

"Why, yes, of course he has. Why, if you know him, how is it that you are ignorant of that? That's certainly the best act of his life."

"Touquet has done a good action," said Julia, smiling ironically; "I could not have imagined that, and is this young girl pretty?"

"Hang it! is she pretty? Well, I believe you! She is one--but no," said Chaudoreille, correcting himself as if struck by a sudden remembrance, "she is not handsome at all; on the contrary, she is ugly, one might even say that she is disagreeable."

"One minute you say she is pretty and the next you say she is very ugly; you don't seem to know what you are saying, Monsieur Chaudoreille."

"One can easily lose his wits when near you, beautiful damsel; but, by that sword, I swear to you--"

The bell at the garden gate was heard, Chaudoreille stopped; presuming that it was the marquis and that it would perhaps be dangerous for him to be surprised in a tete-a-tete with Julia, he escaped by the first pathway and ran to rejoin Marcel, while the young Italian listened anxiously and her cheeks a.s.sumed a more vivid color.

Marcel opened the door, but it was not the marquis, it was Touquet, who came alone.

"Your master fought a duel last night," said he to Marcel, "he was wounded, but very slightly, it seems. I have come to speak to the young girl. She is perhaps anxious to know what all this means. Where is she now?"

"In the garden," said Chaudoreille, "but I a.s.sure you she is not at all lonely here. It is true that I have chatted with her--"

"And who gave you permission to do so? You're very bold to converse with a woman on whom a marquis has laid his eyes."

"Yes, I confess that I am very bold--but I believe you say that monseigneur fought a duel; do you know with whom he fought?"

"Idiot! Is that our business? Do you suppose I asked him?"

"It's true, it's not our business, but--"

"You have nothing more to do here, get out."

"Do you wish me to take myself off?"

"Yes, and immediately."

"Without being presented to monseigneur, that is very awkward; but at least--it seems to me that if they have no more need of me they ought to settle with me."

"Wait! here are ten more crowns; it's more than you are worth, a hundred times."

"Very well, but the rosette and the broken pane of gla.s.s--"

"Hang it, stupid! you're not satisfied?"

"It's all right, it's all right, I'm very well pleased. I mustn't grumble," added Chaudoreille to himself, "he might happen to remember the shaves that I owe him."

"Go at once," said the barber, angrily, pointing with his finger to the garden gate. The Gascon hastily thrust the sum which he had received into his purse, and placed the latter carefully in his belt, murmuring,--

"Ten and eight, that's eighteen. By jingo, that will make them stare at the gambling place in the Rue Vide-Gousset and at the bank of the Rue Coupe-Gorge." Then he shook Marcel's hand, and wrapping himself in his mantle left by the middle gate, which was hardly wide enough for him since he possessed eighteen crowns.

The barber hastened to acquit himself of the commission with which his master had charged him, that he might return promptly to his house and be there on the arrival of his customers. He walked hurriedly through the garden, and soon met Julia, who felt her hope vanish when she perceived him.

"Madame," said Touquet, bowing to the young girl, "the marquis' conduct doubtless seems to you rather extraordinary, but you will excuse him when you learn that he fought a duel last night in the grand Pre-aux-Clercs and was wounded."

"He is wounded," said Julia, with emotion, "and dangerously?"

"No, madame, it is a very little thing, an arm only. Monsieur le marquis made this event known to me at break of day and ordered me to come and tell you. He hoped to be very soon recovered, and able within four or five days to come and excuse himself; but, if you are wearied in this place, you are free to return to your shop. I will go and warn you when--"

"No," said Julia, interrupting him brusquely; "do you imagine I can return to the dwelling I have left? I will wait for the marquis."

"You are the mistress, and they have orders to satisfy your slightest wishes."

The barber bowed to Julia, and having given Marcel the marquis' orders, left the little house and returned to his home.

Five days had elapsed since the young Italian had entered the luxurious apartments; there she had found a harpsichord, a sitar, books, some pencils, some sketches, and a wardrobe furnished with everything that could add a charm to beauty. Marcel, always obedient and discreet, brought her everything that she desired, without permitting himself the slightest question; nor did Julia address him, except to ask him for what she thought necessary to distract her, for the most magnificent dwelling does not forbid weariness.

It was late on the evening of the sixth day; Julia was attired with coquetry, in the hope that the marquis would come, but her hope was vanishing. She lay down upon the sofa, where her reverie had yielded to a light slumber, when the door of the room opened softly, and the Marquis de Villebelle appeared at the entrance of the apartment. "She's not half bad," said he, looking at Julia, who was lying carelessly on the sofa; then he advanced towards her; the noise awoke the young Italian, and, opening her eyes, she perceived the great n.o.bleman, whose rich and elegant costume increased the grace of his bearing. He seated himself, smiling, at her side. Julia was about to rise.

"Don't move," said the marquis, "you are very well as you are. I reproach myself with having disturbed your slumber."

"Monseigneur, I had about given you up," said Julia, seeking to restrain the uneasiness which she felt at the sight of the marquis. "I have been here for six days, alone in this place."

"Yes, you must hare found it very tiresome I can imagine; but, ma belle, my messenger must have told you that it was not my fault. My arm is not cured yet, but I could not longer resist the desire to see this amiable child who for love of me was willing to live in solitude."

"For love of you, seigneur," said Julia, turning her eyes aside so as not to meet those of the marquis, which were fixed amorously upon her; "and who has made you believe that I am in love with you, if you please?"

"Ah, upon my honor, that is divine. Were you awaiting another here, then, my angel?"

"I was waiting, monsieur, to learn from you what motive you had in inducing me to leave my dwelling."

"Delightful by all the devils--delightful. She does not know why they brought her here. Did n.o.body tell you, little strategist?"

"It was from you alone that I wished to hear it, seigneur."

"That is correct. Love is ill made by an amba.s.sador; the little G.o.d does not love pages and valets. He wishes to do his work himself. Come, a kiss first, and we shall understand each other better afterwards."

Julia disengaged herself from the marquis' arms, which he had wound about her, and withdrawing from him she cried,--

"Please, sir, cease these liberties which offend me!"

"Which offend her!" said the marquis, bursting into laughter, while a vivid color sprang to Julia's cheek. "Come now, what do you mean by that? Are we playing a comedy? You wish to make me pay for the weariness of six days' waiting. Once more, sweetheart, it was not my fault; a duel at the moment when I was least thinking of it. I must tell you all about that for it was very droll. I was returning with four of my friends; we were a little tipsy and were trying to dispute with everybody. We broke windows, we beat the watch, we tore off the good shopkeepers' wigs; what can you expect? one must pa.s.s the time and show these gentlemen of the parliament that one does not regard one's self as being comprised in their edicts, which forbid vagabonds, pages and lackeys to make a noise at night in the streets of Paris. Finally, we met a girl, which girl was a boy; he would not tell us why he was disguised, and became angry at our joking; one of the others lent him a sword and we fought. For a youngster, zooks how he went on! it was a pleasure to fight with him. In short, he gave me this cut, which I still feel, and which prevents me from using my arm; so, sweetheart, I beg of you don't be too cruel, for I am not in a state to lead an a.s.sault."